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Arkle had the jump on Dessie

The voice of sport

Over-the-top celebration of a glorious sporting career should probably be welcomed as a harmless expression of positive emotions in a world that is never short of negatives. So it seems almost offensive to confess to feeling queasy last week when the death of Desert Orchid at the age of 27 evoked some printed tributes that threatened to set new records for obituarial hyperbole. Dessie was a national treasure, a swashbuckling steeplechaser whose front-running exploits delivered far more than the thrills and exhilaration that are basic to the appeal of jump racing. It was nothing short of joy that was created by the sight of the grey, almost white gelding in full aggressive flow, majestically dominating a herd of pursuers, treating fences as if they were live opponents that had to be belittled, and millions developed a warmly personal identification with an animal who appeared to have a heroic sense of